


The voices in the static echo my name (INDEFINITE HIATUS)

by Friskyagender (Lamememer), Lamememer



Category: Undertale
Genre: Adandoned, Agression, Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bleh, Blood, Comfort, Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, INDEFINITE HIATUS, Introvert, Magic, Mentions of Death, Monsters, More tags to be added, Multi, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Other, POV reader, People are Assholes, Racism, Reader Is Not Frisk, Selectively Mute Frisk, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Swearing, author has anxiety thats why, car crash, drugs???, hoo boy i've got a plan, i'm not the best writer, it ends super fucked up, lonely, night terror, reader - Freeform, reader POV, reader is introverted, sans works for the police, smut?no smut?, undertale - Freeform, weeb, x Reader, you are a weeb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:10:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamememer/pseuds/Friskyagender, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamememer/pseuds/Lamememer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its been about a year since the barrier wAs broken and monsters were finally free. However racism and aggressions still existed. </p>
<p>You are a young adult fresh out of college, an extreme introvert, you are not ready to tackle the world. Your mom is gone, your dad wants you out of his life. You don't have much going for you untill you meet someone special after a devastating tragety. who becomes your first true friend, and helps you recover from the pain of losing family. Because of loss, you have more gain</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The end is the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Idk the difference between its and it's don't shit on me for that. Idk how often i'll update i have school and other stuff. This was the second time i had to write this bc ao3 thought it would be fun to crash lmao.

     Warm sun shines through the window in your dorm. You groggily pull up your phone to check the time. Shit shit shit, its 10:34. College graduation is today, and all students are required to be ready at 11. You hastily get out of your bed and begin to fix a quick breakfast. Plain cereal. Fun fun fun. You ponder why your room mate didn't get you up, but didn't have much time for speculation as you had to get ready. Quick, closet, gown, tights, shoes,...where was your necklace? You looked everywhere for your pale amber necklace. You can't find it, internally you were heartbroken, it was your mom's, last thing you had of her after she died.

      _Maybe next time there's something special,_ if you had known that you would lose it, you would have kept better track of the precious charm. But now was not the time to be even more late looking for a special keepsake. Squeezing your feet into your shoes, you rush out of your dorm and to the auditorium where graduation would be held.

     Your shoes screeched on the tile of your college hallways as you skidded around the corners. Huffing as you closed the distance to the auditorium doors, you slowed your pace, and fixed the fly aways in your hair. 

    Thankfully for you, when you opened the doors, the scene in front of you was your peers just walking out onto the stage. You snuck in between a couple of jocks, hopefully no one would notice with two large hulks blocking you. 

     One of your teachers, well, soon to be former teachers, stood at a podium and called students up to receive their college diplomas. He was going fairly slow, which didn't bother you too much, it gave you time to rest from your sprint. Your free time was interrupted however, when your name was called by your teacher. Flustered, you scurry up to the podium to accept your diploma. 

 

 

     Later that night, you were sitting up on a roof in the rain drinking hard liquor. Every college class throws loud parties to celebrate graduation. You weren't much of an alcohol drinker, but tonight you were far from sober. It always loosened you up, often too much. You spoke too much, you yelled too much, and you were just plain obnoxious. Unlike your normal persona, on a typical day you were quite, reserved, and consumed by your inner demons. But drunk, everything was different. 

     That's why you were on the roof. Instead of partying, you chose to sulk alone. Today was great. You graduated. But with every up, there was a worse down. Every time you felt great, the night became worse. So tonight, you drank to forget. 

The next morning you woke up face down in the grass with a massive hangover. Someone in your drunken haze, you had fallen off the roof and passed out. Oh well. There's a first time for everything. You felt the world come racing too fast to you. Maybe everything was going to fast. What if you had just walked to graduation. Life is short, its best to savor it all.

     But not this hangover. This is not something to be savored. Your dorm was near. You pulled yourself up off of the grass from outside one of the college campus houses, and started walking to your dorm room, which was inside the college itself. Instead of anxiety, you only had one thing in mind. Advil and water.

     Your headache went away as the advil kicked in. Such sweet relief could only be rewarded with cleaning up your belongings in time before everyone was kicked out. You didn't have much. Planning ahead years ago meant you wouldn't have a problem cleaning now with a hangover. Nice. You pulled a few posters off of your wall, Hamilton the musical, Supernatural, and a Mettaton poster. These you had most of your stay at college. They were a little curled at the edges, but well loved. Some books were next to be put in the boxes got from home depot. Textbooks, novels, manga, all your favorite things. Some dvds and old cds, a few framed photos, and a scrapbook were the last things to be put in the box. You grabbed your soft pillow which you had brought yourself, your mom's amber necklace fell out from within the pillow case. _Oh thank goodness! I thought i had lost it!!_. Your final possession was a stuffed bear, it had kept you safe through out college.

      You sighed. Your side of the room was empty. It was over. You were now, REALLY an adult. Time to find a steady job, get a home, and well, ugh, adult. You felt slightly sad, your structured life was over. Time to build something for yourself. All this, freedom was overwhelming. Your headache came back, and your stomach flipped.  _Don't think. Don't think. Don't think, just do._

 

 

 

    You had to call up your dad to help you move your personal belongings, because you didn't actually have a car. Your dad said you could stay with him for a little while until you found a job and apartment for yourself. Dad has been more, distant, since mom died. It was nice to see him show compassion like this.

      As dad drove you back home, you stared out the window at the fast moving trees. You felt kind of empty. Your life was yours to make, and all you had was a clean slate right now. Leaning your temple against the window, the soft jostle of the car on the highway lulled you to sleep.


	2. Short, sweet, and dad hates you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its so short! I don't want to start the next part because it would be too long for what's already there so this short bit is here for now. I don't know if i'll be able to do daily updates, or even every other day. I have school, and other things. :/ well. Hope you guys like this so far. Again. Sorry about nit having any monsters *yet* It will happen. I've got PLANS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also i made it so the reader's thoughts are asterisked so that dreams can be in italics.

You awoke to the gentle shaking if your dad waking you, telling you that you are back home now. You peel open your eyes, and gather up the few things you had in the passenger seat with you. You open the door to your dad's silver sedan, and walk to open the trunk. The trunk flips open with a slight squeek, and you pull out light box. Walking to the back door of your large family home,

Opening the door, you smell, well, your old home. The faint smell of ciggarettes and liquer; dad started some bad habits after mom died... The stained glass lamp was still near the faded grey couch. The fake granite countertops of the kitchen were a little more worn then what they used to be, but otherwise, the kitchen was the same. Everything, more or less, was the same. 

"You should find a job around here soon," 

Great. Dad was nagging you already. 

"I know dad. I just got here. "

After a few hours of work, all your things were in the house, and your childhood room was cleaned and set up with your current belongings. You sat down on the bed, the old springs creaking gentley as you applied your weight. Sighing, you pulled over your laptop. Your dad obviously didn't want you here, might as well get a job so you can get an apartment. 

Starting internet explorer, ugh, you search up for job listings in your area. There should be plenty. Its a tourist town, mount ebott is just about a mile away. Most of the listings you find are only minnimum wage, *That's okay, that's okay, i shouldn't expect much*, you think to yourself. You do find a gem of a listing though. "Terry's tea and coffee" The pay is $10 and hour! A little over minimum wage, and, on the plus side, you LIKE coffee. Perfect. 

You email a resumé, and close your laptop with a slight smile. *Dad can't shit on me now* Grabbing your phone of the small table by your bed, you check the time. 10:13 Whoompf. Usually you went to sleepater but driving always made you tired, even if you had slept most of the car ride.  
Yawning, you saunter over to your dresser and pull out a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt that says "Coffee comes first" You flop back down into bed, pulling a sheet over yourself. But leaving your feet out. Otherwise you would be too warm. Focusing on your breathing, you close your eyes. *In, out. In, out. In, out. In.... Out....*


	3. Coffee comes first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so i've been working on this for a couple days i've just been really busy sorry :0 also i PROMISE there will be monsters in the next chapter :| I would've put the second chapter with the first but i like to emd chapters when the reader falls asleep or is at a calm conclusion. :// meh.

The sun always woke you. Maybe it was the light, maybe it was the warmth. You loved the sun, and the moon, the stars, planets, nebulas, it was all beautiful. The slim chance that all this was able to exists so perfectly was astounding. You could stay staring up at your ceiling, basking in the warmth forever, and you could've, you didn't have anything better to do. But it always felt weird to just do nothing. Slipping out of bed, you grab a pair of fluffy socks from your dresser. Blue and white stripes, knee high. You wiggle your toes as you adust the socks so the inner seam won't bother you. 

Padding down the stairs, you smell the faint scent of coffee wafting from the kitchen. Jumping down the last two stairs, you grip the banister to keep from hurting yourself as you rush to grt breakfast and coffee. Despite being in your 20's, sometimes it was still fun to do silly things occasionally. Opening the cupboard above the coffee machine, you grab a doctor who mug from the top of the cupboard shelf. Grabbing the pot of coffee that your dad must've ready made, you pour in the warm liqued, and grab some half and half from the fridge. Pouring in a little bit, you see the pale color swirl with the dark, forming a solid tan color. Yum. 

Walking carefully so as not to spill your drink, you move towards the couch and sit down, spilling a little bit on your lap as you do it. "Ah shit!" Your drink was still fairly hot, but not scalding, thankfully. It was only a little bit of coffee, it wouldn't matter. Sipping your coffee you turn on the tv and surf through the channels untill you find something you like. Unable to end your quest, you check for what you have recorded on the dvr. "Supernatural ah nice! This isthe one where that one guy dies." 

Lazy sunday. Getting lost in your favorite tv shows, being total trash. Dad wasn't around. Maybe he went to church after making coffee, but it wasn't much of a concern. Scrolling through your phone, you check your email for any new junk mail, asvertisments, whatever. Surprisingly, you had a email from the place that you had just sent in your resumé, Terry's tea and coffee. Opening the email, a pang of fear swept through you. What if the email had bad news? Its contents were, something. The email told you to come in tommorow for a proper interview. You were hoping you wouldn't have to. It was always, harder, to meet someone when you were really trying to make a good impression. If you had more time to prepare for this then maybe, MAYBE, it would be easier to deal with the problems... 

"Calm down. You're alone, no one can see you freaking. Just, breathe. Breath." You tried to console yourself, focusing on your breathing. You could feel a mild pounding in your ears, but it wasn't too bad. Just enough to... Set you down a peg for the day. But thats okay. It was sunday, you had time to relax, collect yourself, and prepare on your interview. Taking a few more deep breaths, you focus your atention back onto your show.

You sat in a wooden folding chair in the back room of Terry's tea and coffee. You sat facing a smiling lady, she looked about to be in her 50's. Short and skightly pudgy, she looked like someone you could call mom. She wore a yellow dress, with a blue company apron. Her name tag clipped on the strap read "Terry" 

"So dearie, I know you already sent in a resumé, but I would still like to be able to meet you!" Her voice was sweet and sing songy, it was soothing to your pent up anxiety. 

"Oh uh,....uhm... W-what would you like to k-know??" Your stutering seemed incredibly loud and noticible in the small room. 

"Well, lets see, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, not just the statistics on your resumé"

"Oh uh, I used to play piano as a kid, I still play it a little, but i'm fairly rusty. I uh... Really like uhm, bach. Bach is really nice. " You wipe your hands on your jeans, not really knowing what to say. "I uh, uhm, i also really like to paint. Watercolor. Its really, calming, for me. I like to watch netflix while i wait for the paint to dry, heheh, yea.. Uhm,...yeah" "Is that all sweetie? Anything else?" "Oh uhm, i'm sorry but i'm better at answering questions than small talk." "That's alright dear! I'll get back to you soon, we didn't have too many resumés so its likely you'll get the spot, " She ended with a giggle and a smile. You excused yourself, legs shaky from the loss of adreniline. You swallow, and decide to buy a tea. Looking up at the chalk board order signs, you order an green tea with lemon on ice. The barista prepares it for you with a smile. You pay and take a sip, *Mm this tastes good. I hope there's an employee discount!* Walking back to your family home, you walk a little slower to enjoy the pretty atmostphere of late spring. The leaves were lush, and flowere littered the ground. You loved the beauty of spring, and the rain OH the rain, a chill rain on a warm day made everything better. Except for allergies, heh. Unlocking the back door to your home, you throw away your empty cup and kick off your shoes. You still felt a little drained, but your peaceful walk definitly helped. You head upstairs, despite it still being afternoon, you felt like you deserved to change into some comfy clothes. Pulling off your previous garments, you put on a loose shirt and some jersey shorts. Padding downstairs, you curl up in a ball and pull up netflix. *Time to catch up on more supernatural you fucking trash.* "OKAY BUT FOR REAL DEAN NEEDS TO STOP GETTING FUCKED AND SENT PLACES FOR A YEAR" You say quite audibly, but it wouldn't matter. Dad was out so he wouldn't care. You cough, and settle further into the couch to continue binge watching.


	4. In which you have a bad time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So! I'm changing some things. I've got a way to do this on computer now, :D so chapters should be longer and better (hopefully). I'm changing the way i name titles, although it isn't definite lmao. You finally meet sans! Yayyy HOWEVER, little trigger warning, the reader is going through some anxiety issues, and there are  
> Minor mentions of blood and injury. Not horrible (i think? But like, trigger.) read at your own risk. ://

You awake to the sound of police sirens outside. Bleary eyed, you breath in the dusty air, and pull yourself off the couch. Coffee sounds good, but, its like, 1:30 already. I might just have tea. You pour water into a mud with a pixel heart painted on the side. Placing in the microwave, you set the timer for 1 minute and 45 seconds. Leaning back on the counter, you peruse the various boxes of tea in your kitchen. Green tea, black, lemon ginger, peppermint, passionflower, and several other herb mixes. You settle on golden flower tea, a floral tea with a bitter tang that you ever much love. Pulling out the tea bag, you read the words on the tag. “Years of love have been forgot in the hatred of a minute -Edgar Allan Poe” The quote reminds you of the problems between humans and monsters. Personally, you were all for monsters. You had never met a bad monster, they were all very kind. You prefered to stay away from everyone though, so you didn’t have any friends of another specie. 

Your ponderings were interrupted by a firm knock at your door. You quickly grab a blanket from off of your couch because you were still in pajamas. You shuffle to the door with the blanket draped around your shoulders. The person at the door was a policeman from outside. “Oh uhm, h-hello, sir. How can i help you?” Your microwave dinged in the distance, you figured they might have just wanted some water. “We were told that you could I.D. a body, if you could.” His words sent a pang of anxiety through your gut, you were never good with blood. “Oh y-yes, I’d gladly help.” “Perfect, if you would follow me outside.” He lead you outside and down the street. About a block and a half away, you approached a normally busy intersection, now flooded with police cars directing tafic away, and ambulences speeding off. 

You see splattered blood in the among torn up metal in the middle of the road. Your stomach lurches, and your knees weaken. But you continue walking with the officer. He was a tall man, his dark skin and close shave looked very professional in his police clothes. He brings you to the back of an ambulance, where there was a gurney with a black body bag attached to it. The police officer gave you a reassuring smile before unzipping the body bag. If your knees were weak before, they give out now. The face, pale and mangled, dark hair in a mess and stuck down with clotted blood. Despite the damage, you new who it was. You fall down to the asphalt, sobbing. Your dad was in the body bag. 

The next few hours were a blur. The officer escorted you to the station so he and his coworkers could help calm you down to identify the body. They gave you hot chocolate. They offered you some candy, but you turned it down. Your stomach wasn't fit for food. You had cried out every tear you possibly had, and you sat on a hard plastic chair, taking quick hyperventilating breaths. 

The first police officer, his name was officer Peters. He brought in a forensics colleague who worked with the forensics lab. You weren't sure if forensics for a car crash were over kill or not, but you still tried to answer every question to the best of your shaky ability. The man from the forensics lab, well, he wasn't a man. He was a stocky skeleton monster, and you actually felt a little happy that monsters were able to get nice jobs protecting people. "Sans. Sans the skeleton. No need for formal names miss." He had a pained looking grin plastered over his face. You figured it was to help witnesses feel more comfortable, and less traumatized. "So, when was the last time you had seen your dad" He asked. "I-i saw him l-last night" you hiccuped, you words hitched at the thought of your dad. "Did he go anywhere last night, or this morning?" Your eyes welled up somehow, but you held through. "He uh, w-went out last night f-for allergy medicine or something." "Did you see him come back?" "I, i, uh, i don't know. I thought i did, but i fell asleep on the couch, maybe he never did come back, i'm not sure.." You suddenly felt guilty. You couldn't help and you felt like throwing up. You felt too hot and too cold, and the thumping of your pulse was too loud behind your ears. 

"We're just wondering if you saw or remembered anything. There was a security camera at the intersection, normally used for speed trapping and such. We pulled the tapes. Now, we aren't sure, but it appears that your dad's death was no accident. The footage captured an unmarked van, the driver inside could clearly be seen conscious, as they turned the wheel directly at your father. Now, was your dad involved in anything? Did he have any enemies?" Your heart sank, not an accident, but your dad, murdered? You couldn't believe it. You didn't believe it. "Well, he was a fairly avid pro monster speaker when you all surfaced, but he stopped when he needed to spend more time at work. Other than that we've both had pretty meaningless lives, heh." 

He writes this down on his clipboard, and gives you a quick glance. "Well, that about wraps this up. I'll give you a number to call if you have anything else you might think is important. If you would like, i can give you a ride back home." Sans smile seems more sincere now, and you return it with a weak smile of your own. "Yes, i would like that sans. Thankyou." You sniffle, and get up. You grab some tissues and wipe your face for the millionth time. You follow Sans to a non police car. "Its my own. I don't get a 'special' police car. Heh. But its still a nice car, tibia honest." He laughs at his own joke, which you didn't even notice. "C'mon kid, it was kinda funny." You shrug. "To each his own" he says, unlocking the car. The ride home was quiet and sullen. You rested your head against the cold window, the imperfections in the road causing your head to jolt up and down. Sans pulled his car into the driveway of your family home, and got out to open your door for you. He walked you to your door and handed you a piece of legal paper. "Its a phone number. To call if you can think of anything else important, or heh, if you're just feeling bonely." He chuckled at his own pun, obviously still trying to cheer you up. You exchanged goodbyes and you thanked him for all his help. You shut the door, and peered out the window to watch him leave. You almost didn't want Sans to go, you didn't want to be alone. Sans drove off the property, and you sauntered to the couch in the middle of the living room. You sighed, the quiet air moved in and out of your lungs, as the realization that you were now truly alone. Your eyes drooped from the exhaustion of the day, and you drifted off in your empty home.


	5. Where you have a bad dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey so the first half is pretty gory. Its all in italics, so skip ahead if you can't deal with bloody nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also whoo! Two chapters in less than 24 hours! Classes got out early today so in had extra time to write.Again, sorry about the 2 ish week hiatus, I was super busy with tests and concerts, but I still have finals in a few weks. >m

_Blood. Your hands. Blood seeped through your hands, warm, sticky, and fresh. You didn’t know the source. Wiping your hands on your clothes, you check yourself for a source of the fluid. There are no wounds on your body. You turn around to investigate, only to see a horrid sight. Torn metal littered the barren ground, blood spattered everywhere. Chunks of flesh and body matter were speared on the metal chunks, as well as floating in the puddles of blood._

_Oh god, there was so much blood. You stepped towards the atrocity, stradling over thick, hot puddles. Your pant leg got caught on a chunk of metal, ripping the denim and carving a shallow gash in your skin. You feel your own blood drip down your leg, but you persist. You don’t know why, but you had to find the source of the blood. The source._

_You pass by shredded tires, the ground scorched and burnt. The smell of burnt rubber infiltrated your nostrils, making your face clench. The scene became all too familiar, all too recent. You were walking through the wreckage of a massive car crash. The memories from earlier flood back to you, and your head spins with fear and agony. Your dad was dead, and here you were, making your way through a gruesome wreckage. You see a limp, torn body ahead, and rush towards it. Your clothes catch on more metal, carving more gashes into your shins._

_Your breath hitches as you see the face, your dad’s face. His entire lower half was completely shredded, as if he was but in a meat grinder. You retch, the sight all too horrible and all too real for your liking. The pain gushing from your legs was nothing compared to the emotional pain of losing your dad again. You sob, your grief wracked body shaking as you bow to the bloody ground. His lifeless head struggles to say something, “M-mark, Mark Simmons, h-he, did..did..” His voice shakes, his raspy breath uttering an unfamiliar name. You don’t understand, but it doesn’t matter. His head begins to melt into blood, his face twisted in horror. Blood obscures your own vision, as your tears turn into the fluid. You scream…_

 

You awake screaming. For another night, you fell asleep on the sofa. But this night, instead of waking up to death, you wake up from death. Your nightmare, was, the worst you had ever had. _It, it was so vivid, oh, oh my god._ You feel warm tears fall down your face, you hear your shaking breath. Gripping the blanket wrapped around you, you try to calm down. Struggling to your feet, you pad upstairs to get your charger, because your phone was dead. You weren’t sure about it, but you wanted to make a phone call.

You sniffle, and clear your throat. While asleep, you had missed a few emails. One was that you secured the job at Terry’s tea and Coffee, and while that was great and all, in your current situation you didn’t care. You typed the number that Sans had given you into your phone and hit call. The dial tone buzzed in your ears for a while, until you reached the preset voicemail message. “This is San’s phone. You know what to do.” You left a message, saying to give you a call when it was next convenient. You didn’t want to go through your dream again, without anyone actually on the other end.

You set your phone down, and head back upstairs to get dressed. You had been in your pajamas for way too long. You decided to take a shower as well, you could still feel dried tears on your face. Pulling off your clothes, you turn on the hot water tap, and sit down on the hard toilet seat to wait for the water to warm up. You run your hand under after giving it a moment, and step in. You close the shower door (Curtains are disgusting ew) and run the warm water through your hair. You shampoo and condition your hair, and scrub at your skin with soap. You keep scrubbing at your forearms and hands, as if the blood from your dream was still caked on. You weren’t sure if you were crying or not, the water running down your face from the shower made it hard to tell.

You turn off the tap, wring out your hair, and step out onto the cold tile floor. A shiver runs up your spine. You pat yourself dry, wrapping the towel around your mid length brown hair. You feel the gentle tug at your hair when it is all wrapped up, as you gather up your dirty clothes and put them in the hamper. You get some fresh clothes out from your dresser. Normal underwear, a sports bra, shorts, and a baggy tank top. Comfy yet presentable clothes. You return to you spot on the lonely couch, and check your phone.  
Missed call from Sans. 1 new voicemail from Sans. You unlock your phone, and listen to the voicemail. “Hey kiddo, I’m off today but I can meet you at the station if you have something important.” You call back, telling him that you will go to the station at 12:45 if that’s okay with him. You check the time, 11:13, before getting up to fix yourself some tea. You weren’t hungry, despite not eating for nearly 24 hours. Trauma does that sometimes...


	6. Recollections and comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I pushed myself to get 1000+ words for this chapter and I did it! Prepare for fluff and comfort

12:57. You sat on a plastic bench in the corner of the police department. You had been waiting for a while, and your thighs were stuck to the seat. You held a crushed foam cup that had once held water in your hands. You had been waiting for sans to show up for about ten minutes. You didn’t have a problem with that, you just didn’t want to wait too long, your anxiety was building with every passing minute. You unconsciously began to chew on your already stubby nails. Your nervous habits would come back to bite you in the ass eventually.

Your head flew up at the sound of a door swinging open. A familiar stocky figure strode inside. Instead of wearing a blue shirt and white lab coat for work, Sans came in wearing an oversized blue hoodie, black jersey pants, and worn converse. “Hey kiddo, sorry I’m a little later than I said, but why don’t we move this into my office, offer a little privacy.” His trademark grin was once again plastered on his face, though it didn’t make you feel any better. You peeled your legs off the hard plastic as you followed sans back into his office, tossing your mangled cup in the trash as you went.

“So kid, what’s eatin’ ya?” He held his skull in one hand, with his elbow resting on top of a mess of legal papers. His office was small and cramped, with lots of worn filing cabinet. His desk was a dark wood, with lots of scuffs and scratches around the corners. The overhead lights had a slight yellow tint, making everything look dirtier. “Well I uh, I had a uhm, really bad nightmare. Like, it uh was really bad, and, real, I don’t know it's really weird but it felt too real, sorry, this isn’t important at all…” Tears pricked at your eyes at the thought of the night terror. “Heh, you’re patella-ing me kid. Nightmares can get pretty bad. I can relate. Now, is this all, just a night fright?” You smiled a little at his bad skeleton pun, “Uh well, uhm in my dream…” You told sans every gruesome detail of your nightmare, your body shaking with each breath. As Sans listened, his face began to fall, his smile remained, but it looked forced. The lights in his eyes dimmed, and his shoulders tensed.

When you got to the part about your dad’s mangled body, your entire being was shaking, and your hyperventilated breathing obstructed your words. Hot tears streamed down your face. If you weren’t so wracked with fear and grief, you would have felt embarrassed for letting yourself sob like this in front of someone else. Sans slowly got up from his chair and walked around to the front of his desk where you sat. He grabbed box of tissues from the top of a cabinet and handed them to you. He pulled over a wire waste basket, and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting way. “Hey kid, you uh, want me to get you anything? Water, coffee, hot chocolate?” You managed to sputter out a no thank you. He removed his hand from your shoulder to go back to his chair, but you loosely gripped his wrist. “No, no, c-can you stay here?Please?” For an odd reason, his comfort made you feel better, and you still had to finish telling him your nightmare. “Yeah kiddo if it makes you feel better.”

With Sans’s comfort, you managed to tell him the rest. “My, my dad, he, he said that uhm, someone named Mark Simmons, did something,” You looked at Sans to see a face of fear stare back at you. “Sans? Sans, is there something wrong?” You suddenly felt very worried, his smile was completely gone, his eyes were hollow pits of black. “Mark simmons is the leader of a radical anti monster hate group. He’s turned so many monsters to dust, Y/N, I, I know this is just a bad dream, but I’m going to do some extra digging. For you, and for your dad.”

You nodded, you didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” You let out a tense breath you didn’t know you were holding, and, spur of the moment, pulled sans into an embrace. _Weird, hugging someone I don’t know that well, but he’s just, so_ _nice, and he took time out of his day to listen to me ramble…_ His hoodie was soft against your skin, and you could hear a gentle humming resonating from his body. You figured it had something to do with SOULs and magic. Surprisingly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a deeper hug. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s my job. Between us, I get really bad nightmares too. It, helps to have someone there for you. I’ve got my brother paps. Do you have any family at home in case it happens again?” His smile was honest and gentle, he must have not known. “Oh uh, no. My mom died a while ago. Brain tumor.” Your face fell slightly thinking about your mom again. “Aw kiddo, that must be really hard. If you ever need someone, feel free to let me know. I know some good tricks to help after a nightmare, heh.”

You remained in an embrace for a few more moments, before you pulled away. You dried then last of your tears, and pull your hair out of your face. “You want a ride home again? I’d be more than happy to help, don’t want you to be skulking alone, heh heh” Bad puns seemed to be a favorite of his. “Yeah sans that would be great.” You offered a weak smile, and he returned it. You followed him to his car, stepped in, and drove off the premises. The air in the car felt nice, there was a genuine smile on sans’ skull. He dropped you off at your home, and saw you to your door. He left, and you were alone again, but feeling less lonely.

\--------------------

Driving away, Sans felt okay. Normally, fear of resetting ate at him, but for once, it was absent. Maybe because he was focusing on you. He could see your soul during your meeting. A fiery orange color, bravery. If he told you the meaning, you would surely not believe. He was surprised as well. You always seemed so small and scared, but a soul is the true reflection of one’s personality. Something was unsettling though, there were deep cracks spider webbing through your SOUL. But when you pulled him in for a hug, he could feel his soul hum. He didn’t know why exactly, but he didn’t dislike it. He knew you were just in a vulnerable situation and needed comforting. His SOUL fluttered just thinking about it. Pulling into the driveway of his home, he secretly hoped you would have another nightmare.


	7. Paint and alcohol don't mix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So! Mostly filler, a little hot at the end, and plenty of problems to come from this hehe.

Nightmares plagued your sleep that night. You woke up 3 separate times, screaming, and drenched in sweat. (There w-was, so much blood…) You abandoned the idea of rest at 2:40 in the morning. You pushed off the sheet twisted around your body and opened the window in your room. The cool night air rushed in, filling the room, and cleansing the bad vibes from the atmosphere. It smelled like rain.

 

You debated whether or not to text Sans, he had said that if you had another nightmare that you could call, but, you didn’t want to bother him so early in the morning. Instead, you decided to do something at least SOMEWHAT productive. First things first, the job for you applied for. You had gotten an email back, but it had been when your dad, well, you got the job. You pulled up your email on your computer to type a response. You felt bad for not emailing back sooner, but you were getting it done. It had only been a couple days since. Your email mostly consisted of an apology for not responding, that you would love to work there, and how you were excited about the new opportunity. You also inquired when you would be starting the job, and if you could meet to discuss your hours. You hit send, and turn off your laptop, closing it with a soft click. 

 

(Now that's done,) It was only 3:15, you still had hours before the sun rose. You needed to go out and buy groceries, but none of the stores were open yet. Instead you decided to paint. You slide a shallow wooden box out from under your bed. The box was painted a pale mint color, and due to age, was chipped and peeling at the edges. Opening the lid with a squeak, you pulled out a stained plastic palette, a few round brushes, tubes of watercolor paint, and some thick watercolor paper. You fill a cup with water, and grab a few paper towels from down in the kitchen. Setting up your supplies, you turn on the light in your room, and begin randomly sketching. 

 

About 20 minutes later, you were on your phone, waiting for a layer of paint to dry. You ended up painting a fantasy sunset, with towers and mountains in the background. Consisting of mostly orange, you used purple as a warm contrasting shadow. It seemed oddly familiar, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. You could get lost in painting, the way the pigment flowed through the water and settled into the tooth of the paper, it just enthralled you. 

 

You felt a tickle of loneliness in the back of your mind, and just wanted to focus on painting. The tickle became an itch, and drew your attention away from the peace of creation. You decided that a little drink would be okay, you were an adult, you could make your own choices. Pushing out the chair and stepping away from your desk, you pad down the steps and into your kitchen. Opening the wine cupboard, you pull out a bottle of red wine. Not too new, but they say wine gets better with age. You grab a pretty wine glass, and head back upstairs with your drink. Your paint was now dry, and you continue to paint, all the while drinking, and drinking, and drinking. 

 

Your painting was long finished, and before you knew it you had drunk the whole bottle. It wasn’t a standard size bottle, it was smaller, but you had built up an alcohol tolerance at college. College, a degree in practical science and astrophysics, only to work a simple barista job. You laughed, your drunk mind spinning. You felt, good. Your face felt warm, but you felt, happy. A false, chemically induced happiness, but happiness still the same. It was never fun to drink alone, and despite any rational thought you had left, you started drunk texting. Not sure who to text, you texted the only person you knew in the city. 

 

Y/N: Saaannnnnnsssss

 

Y/N: Snnasss i neeeeedddd uuuuuu rnn

 

Sans: Y/n, you ok kid? 

 

Y/N: ill be ok wen u grt her e 

 

Sans: Woah kiddo, are you drunk? 

 

Y/N: Slam dun k druink ;)

 

You were laughing so much, yet you didn’t know why. You felt like flirting, (I should flirt with him) Your drunk brain was hazy, and you couldn't think straight. 

 

Sans: I’m gonna come over, but only to make sure you don’t get yourself hurt. I’ll be there in a few. 

 

Y/N: Nooooo snansyyyy, you shood stayy wif me now an tezt 

 

You received no reply, but continued to text incohesive words. Spur of the moment, you took a couple drunk selfies, and sent them. You didn’t know what you were doing, if you were sober you would have been ashamed. 

 

A knock at your door disrupted your drunk haze, and you rushed down the stairs to answer it. Sans stood at your steps, dressed in a blue hoodie and shorts. He seemed worried, but you didn’t notice. You grabbed the skeleton by his hood and pulled him inside. You giggled, the scent of alcohol rolling off your tongue. Sans looked you in the eyes, he was about your height, the lights in his sockets level. “Kiddo,” He started, he was concerned about you. “Shhhhh Sans, lets have some fun.” You flashed a devilish grin, and pulled sans closer to your body. His face appeared to have a soft dusting of blue on his cheeks. 

 

“Look kid, you’re drunk. You said it yourself, ‘slam dunk drunk’, you can’t think rationally right now. I’m gonna get you some water.” He stepped away from you, and you felt insulted. “So you don’t wanna spend time with me?” Your words slurred, and you shakily followed sans into your kitchen. “Kiddo, I would love to spend time with you, but not while you’re like this.” He grabbed a cup and filled it with ice and water. “Here, drink.” He hands you the cup. You listen to him and down it, and set it down when you’re finished. The heat in your face lessened with the chill of the ice. “Good, now that you have some water, why don’t we sit down and talk. It's fairly early in the morning, so I’m assuming you had another night-” You cut him off, and pull him into the living room and onto the grey couch. 

 

“Kid, what, what are you doing,” You’ve completely lost all self control. You smash your face against his skull in what could only be a kiss. His face turns a bright blue, and his eyes are dark pits. Surprisingly he doesn’t back away. Instead he leans into it, pushing you against the cushions. You feel something against your lips, and you pull away to see a gently glowing blue tongue, and a soft light burning from his left eye. You kiss him back, allowing this new appendage entry into your mouth. It feels foreign, but you enjoy it. Sans kisses you harder, and a soft moan escapes your lips. At this, Sans sits up, “Look kid, You, you’re vulnerable. I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. Hell, you’re so drunk. Next time, when you’re sober, then maybe we could do something. But this is wrong. I can’t do this to you. I, i gotta go. Bye.”

You blinked and sans was gone. You were too drunk to care. Your face was flushed from not only the wine, but from the event that just happened. You fell back against the couch, and the arms of sleep finally took you. You passed out, into a dreamless sleep.


	8. I'm sorry.

I'm dissatisfied with this fic. It, wasn't going anywhere. Writing it felt like a chore, i could've done it better. It was, poor. Poor in quality, poor in motivation, poor in ideas. While writing this i always had new ideas for new fics. Some ideas MAYBE could have been implemented into this one, but it would be very hard because this one already had a, backstory. I couldn't just ADD things out of nowhere. 

So what i'm saying is the i'm abandoning this fic. Maybe i'll continue it would one day, i don't know. But because i don't know, it's technically an indefinite hiatus. If someone ever felt like they wanted to continue this fic then by all means, please. Just comment so i can read it. 

Out of these, ideas i had during the making of this fic, i have made a new one. I have ideas about it every day, and wish i had a strong enough attention span to produce 1-2k word chapters each day. It is titled Flowers are blooming, and can be found on my profile. So far i really like it, and i hope it lasts.


End file.
